God is a Poet

I burn the midnight oil To fuel these thoughts that are nocturnal Pen and paper is my late night affair Hours and owls that chime in like clockwork This isn’t harry potter but I will send these secrets through thin air The patterns we can manifest makes me think anything is possible You’re blind and can’t see, but you still believe it We’re only migrants and I’m hoping to still be living when we reach the zenith We’re not even camping but this is intense You’re not being serious but I’m taking offense, Taking so many shots at me I think you gave me lockjaw You’re like these walls that surround us, you won’t even tell me what you saw I’m not good with “no’s” So why is it in your vocabulary? I know you’re not a psychic so why do you refuse to get to know me? Oh I forgot, you’re a connoisseur of what’s good for you You just know everything about what’s good for you And since you do, teach me all your self fulfilling prophecies And you love to tell me to wear my heart on my sleeve a little quieter Is it that I don’t have the guts, or I have too much sympathy to wrong her? Suffer is a strong word, but from what I’ve seen, I don’t think you’re stronger